


Flowers In The Darkest Part of My Mind

by theletterdee



Series: Tumblr Prompts - DBM [22]
Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Therapy, Tumblr Prompt, getting over traumatic childhoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterdee/pseuds/theletterdee
Summary: tumblr anon prompt of: "where Matthew gets angry (not necessarily with her but in general) and how Alice deals with this because it’s been implied before that she can’t deal with shouting?"
Relationships: Alice Harvey/Matthew Lawson
Series: Tumblr Prompts - DBM [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1258799
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Flowers In The Darkest Part of My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> it's of a different fic (and felt like it took me forever to actually write it), but honestly the idea of actually exploring a little of WHY Matthew yells and how that could affect a potential relationship with Alice was too interesting to pass up. The working title of this fic was "Matthew Goes to Therapy" and honestly most characters on this show probably should, but I'm very proud of Matthew actually sitting down with his feelings and anger and dealing with them. Please enjoy! - Dee
> 
> tw: mentions of abuse

"What brought you here?"

Matthew sighed as he shifted on the couch; it was a comfortable couch and Matthew had gotten to know it over the past few weeks of coming to Dr. Graves, but at his question, suddenly Matthew felt like he had at the beginning: out of place.

"Matthew?"

Glancing over at the doctor - a tall, quiet man about Matthew's age with his dark grey hair starting to go white - Matthew sighed again.

"There was… an incident."

"What sort of incident?"

"One of the constables - a little green around the gills, no fault of his own - messed up on a case and it happened that I was… stressed out that day. I'd been stressed quite a bit before this incident, but this was the day it all just kind of… blew up. A… friend and colleague overheard the yelling and… she pulled away from me because of it. Alice… I won't say much because I also don't _know_ much, but she… didn't have a happy childhood and I'd seen the way she was like when someone raised their voice or moved too quickly towards her."

"Ah," Dr. Graves nodded as he jotted down a few notes. "So, Alice pulled away?"

"Yes, she stopped coming by the house for dinner, stopped bantering with me at work, only doing the bare minimum in interacting with me or the police, so… after talking with Jean - who knows a lot more of Alice's past - I realized Alice was afraid of me… of my anger."

"And that's not something you want?"

Matthew shook his head, "I don't think it's something I've wanted for a long time. Besides scaring Alice, who's a close friend… I'm just tired of being so angry for so long. Angry at my father, angry at my past, angry at Lucien, angry at the higher ups, angry at the world… God, I'm just so _tired_."

"Hm, interesting."

He liked Dr. Graves; the psychologist never pushed and had a sort of eclectic way of looking at the world - it almost was like he'd found another "Alice" and found it easy to talk to the man, regardless if he'd been nervous at first.

The way Alice had looked at him after running into him in the hallway once he'd been through with carpeting the constable, the way her eyes were wide, scared, and how she'd stepped back from him - flinched, really - confused him; they'd gotten through so much and had started to fall back into the friendship both enjoyed prior to Lucien going missing, that her pulling back so suddenly frustrated him.

It wasn't until Alice didn't show up for dinner a few nights in a row, that he finally turned to Jean for her input.

" _You remember the day you were reaming out the constable?" She'd asked him quietly as the tea steeped between them._

" _I do."_

" _You weren't in the bullpen with us, but… Alice was shaking."_

" _Shaking?"_

" _Yes, she'd come by to drop off a report and was chatting with me and Peter when you started in; I nearly thought she would faint dead right then and there."_

_He couldn't picture Alice close to fainting, but Jean looked serious._

" _She couldn't hide the way her hands shook or the paleness of her cheeks, so I told her to go outside for fresh air."_

" _I ran into her on her way out, and she flinched from me, Jean. She's… she's never done that before even before we really knew each other."_

" _But you_ _ **don't**_ _know each other, not… I mean, you're close, but there's still so much you don't know about Alice and things she doesn't know about your past."_

_Matthew pulled at his hair as he ran a hand through it; letting out a frustrated sigh, he watched Jean pour them tea._

" _What am I missing, Jean? I don't… I don't want it to be like this, I… I miss her."_

_Jean continued to pour the tea and fix their cups to their liking - staying quiet for a long time (and Jean could draw out her silences when she liked to) before she took a sip and sighed._

" _I think… I think Alice was startled and got scared… by your anger, Matthew."_

" _My anger?"_

" _The yelling."_

_Scrubbing his face with his hand, Matthew frowned, "But… why?"_

" _That's probably for Alice to tell you, but… from what I can tell she didn't have an easy childhood. Lucien and Charlie once mentioned she'd told a suspect that she 'didn't need protecting since she was twelve years old'... I'll let you speculate as to why."_

_Matthew sighed, a tired, weary sigh, and leaned his head in his hand; he'd seen enough children abused by their parents to hazard a guess (hell, he'd been through some with his father), and the flinching, the startled, almost deer-in-headlights look Alice got when she'd overheard his yelling started to make a little more sense._

" _Oh, Christ."_

_Jean hummed and pushed his tea towards him, "So… I suppose to fix this… you might need to do some thinking and reflecting."_

_At that he huffed a silent laugh, "Thinking never helped me get anywhere… just leads me in circles."_

" _Then maybe you need someone to help guide you… your brother-in-law works in the field of psychology, does he not?"_

" _Yeah, but I don't think I could tell him all about this… I know there are things that Vera never told him about our past and I don't want to drive a wedge between them. Vera's moved on as much as she could."_

" _Then see if he has a friend or colleague who might be open to new patients."_

_Matthew sighed again as Jean patted his hand and he stared off into space as he mechanically sipped at his tea - not really tasting it as Jean started on cleaning up the kitchen post-dinner. Would he really do this?_ _ **Could**_ _he really do this? Go and talk to a stranger about… well, everything?_

_If he didn't, would he lose Alice?_

And so, here he was, a few weeks later after a few days of self-reflection and knowing something needed to drastically change in order for his world to right itself; Matthew reached out to his brother-in-law, Daniel Anderson, and found someone to help him figure out where to go from there.

Doctor Maxwell Graves was certainly an interesting choice, but Matthew liked how he made him feel at ease even when asking deeply probing questions about his past, his father - everything, really. Through the psychologist, Matthew was able to take the demons of his past and shrink them down into more manageable battles; he gave Matthew new tools to work with - a journal, counting to himself when he found his anger rising, breathing exercises - and never judged Matthew if he fell a little behind or had to reschedule. The practice he ran with his wife - also a psychologist who tended to see the women of the practice, and specialized in victims of abuse - had become a place of comfort to Matthew in the weeks since his last outburst.

"Matthew?"

"Hm?" Matthew felt his cheeks grow warm, realizing he'd drifted off into his thoughts for far too long.

"What were you thinking of?"

"Just… just how much everything's gotten better since I started coming to see you, Doc."

At that, Dr. Graves smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, and I think that I've finally figured out the source of all of this."

"Really?" Matthew sat up slightly to make eye contact with the doctor. "What is it?"

"I don't think your anger _is_ actually anger, I think it's grief."

"Grief?" That wasn't what Matthew was expecting to hear at all.

"Mm-hm," his psychologist nodded. "I think it's grief that you never let yourself feel; grief for your childhood, grief for your father, grief for your friend, Lucien. It comes out as anger, but I think you're lashing out from a place of sadness and hurt."

"I understand that part, but… I also get angry when things are unfair… is that also grief?"

"In a way, it's grief stemming from your immense capacity for empathy; you're sad - and angry - at the world because you genuinely wish it could be a better place and through all you've seen at work it feels like you haven't made a difference at all. You get stuck on all the things that haven't changed, all the good that hasn't been done instead of the good impact you've had, that it builds up and lashes out on unsuspecting constables."

Matthew chuckled, "I suppose that makes sense… does that change anything?"

"Not really," Dr. Graves smiled. "Same sort of coping mechanisms, but also allow yourself to feel everything… don't hold back if you need to grieve or cry or whatever when a case gets to you, or something happens in your life; and of course I'll be here for you to talk to - in person or over the phone if it's particularly bad."

"Hm…"

"I know it sounds very simple, and also goes against everything you've been told growing up about how to be a man, but allowing yourself to feel is a lot harder than it sounds. It takes quite a bit of bravery, but I assure you it'll be better for you, your emotions, and your relationships in the long run."

"I'll try, Doc."

Dr. Graves patted his shoulder, "That's all I ever ask, Matthew. Now, continue your journaling, work on the breathing exercises, and allow yourself to truly feel something this week besides frustration or anger."

Matthew snorted a laugh, but shook Dr. Graves' hand as he stood. "Thanks, Doc. I should get back to Ballarat."

"Have a safe trip, and, Matthew?"

"Yeah?"

"I would tell your Alice about all of this… it sounds like you really care for her and I think she should know the effort you've been making to deal with your anger."

Matthew nodded and headed out of Dr. Graves office with a lighter heart. It was still hard work to confront his past and unlearning old habits, but he deserved better.

(And so did everyone around him)

* * *

Alice felt lost; this wasn't the first time (nor the last time), but this time she felt it much more keenly than before. It all started with a letter.

She didn't know how they'd found her; she'd left that life long ago - as well as her sister - and wanted nothing to do with her parents. Alice battled with the urge to read the letter or to simply throw it in the fireplace - the very sight of the return address bringing up memories that were never far from her nightmares. They affected her sleep, which affected how she came across to people, and Alice could tell Jean was starting to notice, when that fateful day in the station happened.

Her emotions were already holding on by a tightly wound string, and to hear Matthew yelling in that way had violently shook her to the core; his voice morphed into that of her father's - the letter still burning an image in her mind - and Alice tried to hide the way her knees suddenly grew weak and threatened to give out underneath her.

" _Alice?"_

" _I'm fine," she'd tried to smile - to reassure both Jean and Peter._

" _You're as white as a sheet, let's get you out for some air, hm?"_

_Flinching just a little away from her friend's grasp, Alice shook her head, "I… I can find it on my own, thank you."_

_All but running from the bullpen, and away from the questions that would arise if she stayed any longer, Alice gasped when she nearly ran into Matthew._

" _Alice?" he reached for her and she flinched away - her mind not knowing the difference between him and her father, all it urged her to do was to get out of the building, to run to where it was safe._

' _Matthew_ _ **is**_ _safe though,' she tried to tell herself, but his sudden outburst of anger scared her._

_Shaking her head with a faint apology and fighting tears, Alice tore out of the station and back to the hospital - trying to calm herself down in the process._

She knew Matthew got angry when things were unfair, and that he had to keep a strict hand on the station lest it got out of control, but… she'd never quite heard or seen him this way. He got short, yes, or abrupt, but not like this; the closest he'd come was when he'd snapped at Jean outside the morgue - she'd been more annoyed with his treatment of their mutual friend than scared, and still felt safe around him, knowing he was different than the men of her past.

But would he be safe now after this? Would he get angry again, and angry at _her_? Could she risk her heart like that?

Alice sighed and leaned back on her couch - no closer to answers than she had been weeks ago. Against her wants and wishes, Alice drew back from Matthew - not going around for dinner with him and Jean, no lingering conversations or looks in the morgue or station, and mainly going through the motions she had to for her job. It hurt; she missed Matthew, but she couldn't risk all the progress she'd made in her life to be around someone who got angry like that.

But has it _really_ been progress? Has she really been getting over her past? Or was she still running from it like she had when twelve years old?

Eyeing the letter on her coffee table - still unopened - Alice felt so damn lost… and desperately wished someone was here to help guide her through it all.

The sound of her doorbell jarred Alice from her thoughts and she leapt to her feet - trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart as she wiped her sudden clammy palms on her robe and went to see who'd come around to her little bungalow. Peering through the peephole, Alice bit her lower lip when she saw Matthew standing there.

' _Why is he here?_ ' she thought, even as she slowly unlocked the door and peered out through a crack.

"Hi," he gave her a slight, _nervous_ , smile. "Uh… I hear it's your birthday today, and I didn't want you to think I forgot."

Honestly she'd forgotten about her own birthday - most people did, at least until she'd come to Ballarat. The sight of the small bouquet of daisies (he'd remembered her preference for them over other more… obviously romantic flowers usually picked), and a gift bag in his hand nearly made her start crying.

"I, um, I understand if you don't want me to linger or come in, or even if you don't want to accept the gift, Alice," Matthew cleared his throat and continued. "But I want you to know… that I've been working on my anger, and the yelling, and the… overall grumpiness. That's… that's what I've been doing this past few weeks when you pulled back, and I don't blame you at all. I don't think I've been happy with myself for quite some time, and… well, I'm getting help - professional help - with all of it."

At that, Alice opened the door further and silently stepped up to Matthew; sliding her arms around his shoulders, she buried her face in the crook of his neck - smiling when she felt him hesitate before pulling her closer.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Drawing back from the spontaneous hug, Alice wiped at the tears falling and waved him in.

"You're sure?"

Smiling at the way he shifted his weight like a schoolboy about to be scolded, Alice nodded; Matthew stepped into her home, watching her quietly as she closed the door behind him. Knotting her fingers in front of her, Alice shuffled nervously next to him.

"I… I've missed you," she admitted in the uneasy silence between them.

That got her a shy smile, "I missed you too."

"Tea?" She motioned further into her home and led him to the kitchen; it felt… right to have him here - sitting silently at her table as she bustled around readying a brew for two. Alice hadn't realized just how _much_ she'd missed him until that moment; he had always made her feel comfortable (he shared a silence with her the same way Lucien always made her at ease by filling up the air with words and pulling her out of her shell).

"Still white with two?" she asked him.

"Yeah, you still take honey in yours?"

"Yeah," Alice smiled over her shoulder as the kettle boiled.

"Why honey?"

"It's what Mum had on hand most of the time… cheaper than sugar since one of our neighbors had a hive."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Oh, the other neighbors hated it, but since it was up on the roof, they couldn't complain much," Alice shrugged. "At least we got free honey."

Matthew's faint chuckle warmed her heart as she brought over the steaming cups; watching him blow gently on his before taking a sip and (predictably) burning his tongue a little, Alice smiled as the warmth in her chest rose - she'd _missed_ him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why?"

"For… for pulling away."

"Don't be," Matthew reached out a hand and squeezed hers when she met him halfway. "Don't be, Alice. If you hadn't… I probably wouldn't have gone to get help."

"What do you mean?"

"I wondered why you pulled away, why you hadn't come by for dinner, and Jean finally sat me down and told me you'd gotten scared of my… yelling, my anger."

Alice squeezed his hand as he drew in a deep breath.

"And… as awful as it was not having you around, I'm grateful for it… it pushed me to get help and I can't express enough of how much better I feel for it. I'm… I'm sorry it took something like what happened in the bullpen to have me look for help, but…"

"You're still grateful for it, I understand."

"And… I want to tell you about _why_ I tend to yell."

She could feel the way his hands started to shake in hers, and saw the nervous tick of him chewing on his inner lip; she'd never seen him this nervous, not even when he'd bucked up the courage to ask her out to dinner that first time.

(How she hated to have to let him down gently, as much as she wanted to finally go forward in their dance)

"Okay," Alice nodded. "Okay, yeah, do you want to stay here and tell me or move to somewhere more comfortable? How's your le-?"

"Alice, sweetheart," Matthew smiled, cutting off her concerned questions, and her stomach fluttered a little at the term of endearment.

"Anywhere is fine, I just… it's harder to talk about this than I thought, which is stupid because I _just_ talked about it all with Dr. Graves."

"It's not stupid, it's not."

Matthew shifted in his seat and sighed, "It still feels stupid."

"It's not," she squeezed his hands. "I know how hard it can be to admit these things to people you care about because you don't want things to change… or how they view you to change. How about we move to the couch and maybe that'll help you figure out what you want to say?"

"Okay," he nodded.

Alice made new, fresh cups of tea for both of them as Matthew shuffled out of the kitchen to the couch; as she brought the mugs in, she saw him eyeing the letter still on her coffee table.

"Not a fan of opening your mail?"

"Not overly fond of mail from Sydney… I'll tell you after you get whatever it is off your chest, that's what you came for after all."

He nodded and smiled when she handed over the fresh cup of tea. It all came out - slowly, and frequently punctuated with long silences as Matthew worked out what he wanted to say; she had no idea what a brute his father had been, and how similar their childhoods were. Matthew's father was more emotionally distant - with somewhat violent drunken outbursts - and tended to gamble things and money away rather than beat the living daylights out of Matthew, and Alice wondered if it was because Matthew started fighting back once he got older and stronger than Alice had been - ultimately more of a coward than her own father.

Matthew's upbringing along with the bullying he'd faced at the hands of McAvoy (no wonder he'd been so stressed during the Ballarat West case) shed light on his overall grumpiness and anger - it had all been a wall, a way to separate himself from the world, from getting attached because his heart felt too much. Alice squeezed his hands - their tea cups abandoned on the table, cooled and forgotten - as he went into all that the doctor had told him about how his anger was actually his grief manifesting from a place of hurt.

"Now that you know, what is he having you do to help?"

"I have a journal," Matthew smiled - their joined hands on his good knee. "Dr. Graves has me write down something good each day - even if it's just as simple as ' _I had a really good cup of tea_ ', and that way I can look back on the week and see how much good really is in my life, so I don't lose focus of that when work gets to be a lot."

"Good, I'm glad."

"Me too," his smile widened and he wiped away the lingering tears he'd shed earlier; Alice leaned over and kissed his cheek as she hugged him.

"I'm so proud of you."

Matthew sniffled some - clearing his throat in a way that told Alice he was trying not to cry again - but he held tight to Alice and she felt her shoulder grow a little damp.

"I'm so proud of you," she told him again as he drew back to wipe his tears.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Alice felt her cheeks warm as he softly kissed one; Matthew smiled when she immediately reached for his hand while he took a little time to recover.

"Now, uh," he cleared his throat, "what about Sydney mail hits you the wrong way?"

"Where to start," she sighed, but with Matthew's hand tight around hers, she drew the strength to tell him of her past.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of the shining look in Matthew's eyes - not pitying like some had done - as he remained silent throughout her tale (exactly like she had in his - squeezing her hands reassuringly whenever her throat closed around her words), but she greatly appreciated finally telling _someone_ the whole sad, sorry lot she'd received in life. Finally, Matthew would understand why she was so touch-averse from people she didn't trust. Finally, he'd understand why any type of raised voice could set her on edge. And finally, he'd understand why it took her so long to open up to anyone (and how Lucien had done that by simply accepting Alice for herself - no expectations, no restrictions, just pure acceptance of her as a doctor and her as a friend).

"Oh, Alice," he gently pulled her in for a hug. "I'm so sorry you ever had to go through that, and I'm proud of you."

Alice held on tight to him - taking comfort in his solid, steady warmth - and though the tears fell, she felt so relieved to finally get it out in the open; she was no longer running from her past - not quite confronting it, but willing to stop and walk with it instead of away from it.

"The yelling and the anger on my part… was that another reason you were so hesitant about… us?"

"I… I think so."

"Then I'm definitely glad I went and got help. I know, I know, I shouldn't want to change for the hope of a relationship, sweetheart, but I also wanted to change for myself and you're worth changing for."

Alice simply held him tighter - not knowing what to say, but it did give her a little bit of hope that maybe their dance could resume.

"So… are you worried that your parents have finally found you with this letter from Sydney?"

"Yeah," she wiped her eyes.

"Want me to open it for you and then you can read it?"

"Oh, would you? I-I don't know if I could ever buck up the courage to."

Matthew kissed her forehead and leaned forward to pick up the letter; the address of her parents' house glared up at Alice as she leaned her head on Matthew's shoulder - though she didn't recognize the handwriting. He gently ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter.

"Can…" she sighed when he held it out, "Can you read it? Out loud, please?"

"Yeah, I can," he kissed her forehead again.

" _Dear Alice_ ," the letter began, " _I know this letter might come as a shock, or completely unwanted, but I hope you've decided to open it and find out. It took awhile to track you down, but Father's lawyer finally did, and I'm writing to tell you that Father is dead. Mum's still alive, and I'm taking care of her as she deals with both her grief and relief over the fact that she's out from under his abusive thumb. I'm also writing to tell you that I never hated you for leaving, my dear sister. You got out when you could, and I was thankfully shielded from Father's abuse by Mum, who didn't want to lose her other daughter. You made your choice to leave, and I made my choice to stay after I got older, and I just… I wanted you to know that both Mum and I worried after you. I hope you reach out to us again now that Father's gone, I'd love to introduce you to your niece - she reminds me so much of you every day. Yours, Peg._ "

"Oh…" Alice covered her mouth with her hand as she gently took the letter from Matthew's hand - more tears springing up in her eyes as she poured over the slanting handwriting of her baby sister - so very different from when they were young.

"Oh, Matthew…"

"Seems like good news, hm?"

"I… I don't know."

He kissed her temple as she stared at the letter, "Well… your father's dead, and it sounds like your sister and Mum miss you."

"What if it's a trick?"

"There's one way to find out," he pointed to the phone number written down at the bottom. "If it _is_ a trick, you've still got me and Jean and the whole of Ballarat's police force to help protect you. We'll do whatever we need to do."

That did make her feel better; she had a family here in Ballarat - one unlike she'd ever had before, and she felt more confident that she could confront any negative consequences from reaching out to her family.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded, "Okay. I want to call and find out."

"How about tomorrow, it's getting a little late."

Alice looked down at Matthew's watch and giggled at the late hour.

"Might have to sneak out of here, but first, you have a gift to open."

"I completely forgot."

"Sit tight, I'll get the gift," with another kiss to her forehead, Matthew got up with a slight groan and quickly retrieved the bag he'd brought in.

"Happy Birthday, Alice."

She peered into the bag and giggled at the familiar sight of Jean's biscuit tin. "Did you nick Jean's biscuits, my dear Matthew?"

"No!" He protested even as she laughed. "No, no, no, it was all that was on hand to hold your present. As if Jean would _let_ me nick her tin anyways."

Alice continued to laugh and opened the tin - inhaling the scent of baked shortbread drizzled in chocolate; they weren't perfect, some of the pieces were a little wonky, but when she pulled one out to sample they were just as delicious as Jean's usual shortbread (and the added chocolate made her want to eat the entire tin in one go).

Matthew cleared his throat again, "Sorry some of them look weird, I'm not as skilled as Jean is in the kitchen - though she did hover over my shoulder while I made them."

"You made these?"

His cheeks turned pink (as did his ears), but he nodded, "I, uh, I wanted to give you something a little special, but not too over the top."

"It's perfect, Matthew," Alice leaned over and hugged him - the tin still in her hands as her friend laughed. "Thank you, I love it."

"Good," he kissed the top of her head as she lingered in his arms, "I'm glad."

"And I'm glad you've gotten help, and that you've trusted me with everything."

"Just as I am with you trusting me with your past."

She hummed a little happy hum before kissing Matthew's cheek as she drew back from the hug; he smiled at her - his hand coming up to trail over her cheek - it widened when she leaned into his touch.

"It's getting late," Matthew told her softly.

"It is… you'll come back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, or you could come over to the house - have some privacy in the studio before staying for dinner."

"Is this your way of asking me over for dinner?" She teased.

"Maybe," he kissed her cheek, "that and Jean also misses you coming by."

"Alright… provided we don't get called in on a Sunday, I'll drop by in the afternoon to make the call… you'll be there, right?"

"For as long as you want me to be, sweetheart."

"Good," she smiled and leaned in to press her lips softly against his. "Good."

Alice's smile widened when he stared at her for a moment before a wide, boyish grin spread across his face, and she giggled as he pulled her in for another kiss - the shortbread tin lifted from her hands to be placed on the coffee table as he kissed her again.

It was getting late, and Matthew probably should leave, but Alice mused (as they traded more kisses) that he wasn't leaving any time soon.

* * *

"How have you been since our last meeting?" Dr. Graves asked him, and Matthew couldn't stop the goofy grin spreading across his face at the memory of kissing Alice the night of her birthday.

"Matthew?"

"Sorry, Doc," he cleared his throat, but the psychologist waved him off.

"It's good to see you so happy. What happened?"

"I, uh, I told Alice about everything."

"That's good," Dr. Graves smiled. "And?"

"And what?"

"What's causing the grin?"

Trying to bite back another grin - and failing - Matthew ducked his head.

"Ah, well… Alice and I have a date… after sharing a few kisses."

The answering smile from his psychologist made it feel even better.

"Good, very good."


End file.
